The 70s Mom Game: Raising Resilient Dogs

Let it go, man. image: AdobeStock

I’m only half-joking when I tell clients that in the 1970s, my mom would walk out of the grocery store without my sister and me. And if we didn’t notice and follow her, we were left to find a pay phone on some hot Illinois side road to call our older brother for a ride.

Maybe this was just a Midwestern thing. Maybe it was just my family. Either way, I’m grateful for the lessons I learned. I paid attention. I became responsible for my own actions. I developed grit.

So how does this relate to dog behavior modification? Great question.

These days, I see so many clients who never set the expectation for their dogs to visually track them, follow them, or even notice when they walk away. Since the pandemic lockdowns, many people not only don’t leave their dogs; they don’t give their dogs the chance to fail, problem-solve, or learn from tolerable stress.

But here’s the thing. Without the opportunity to experience mild stress, dogs can’t build resilience. Just like kids, they need space to make mistakes and figure things out. Otherwise, they’ll always rely on us to manage every little thing.

In the same vein, many of my clients feel pressure to entertain their dogs constantly, to micromanage their environment, behavior, energy, and emotions. And at the end of the day? The humans are burned out, and the dogs are demand-barking for more.

This cycle isn’t helping anyone.

Somewhere along the way, we adopted this strange cultural expectation that being a “good” dog parent means providing two 45-minute walks a day, 20 minutes of mental stimulation in between, perfect obedience, and polite leash greetings - all while keeping our homes clean and our own lives running smoothly. It’s exhausting. And it’s not necessary.

Let’s take a breath. Better yet, let’s take a step back to the 1970s when dogs got to be dogs and people didn’t judge themselves by their dog’s behavior.

How do we get there?

We start by letting our dogs explore.

We practice what I call benign neglect - stepping back just enough to let them figure things out.

We give them an egg carton full of treats and let them tear it open without helping.

We walk away from them when they’re off-leash; not to test them but to give them the opportunity to notice and follow.

And when they do show up at our side, we smile like a surprised 70s mom and say, “There you are!”

And if they bark at another dog while on leash? We don’t panic, apologize, or feel ashamed. We say, “Wow. My dog is having some big feelings today,” and we move on.

In this intense world of optimization and self-improvement - for ourselves and our dogs - we're running on a treadmill that never stops. It's time to step off.

Let your dog feel some tolerable stress.

Let them make their own choices.

Let them surprise you.

Trust them. Trust yourself.

And remember: in the 70s, dog moms didn’t judge each other. Maybe it’s time we don’t either.